


Day 3: Grief

by charcoalie



Series: Thor's Week 2019 [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Sad, Thor Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 18:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalie/pseuds/charcoalie
Summary: Thor takes a moment to think of the loss of his friends.





	Day 3: Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Thor's Week 2019

Everyone was accounted for. For the most part, anyway. Huge chunks of the population was missing, mostly from the army. It tugged at Thor’s heart, the idea of how they might have been killed weighing on his mind. He considered asking someone, but the entire army was dead, and none of the civilians would have known. Sif had been exiled, so maybe she was still alive? Perhaps he could ask Heimdall. It seemed a bit unlikely, but she was strong. Stronger than him. But he knew of the others. He knew of Volstagg, and of Hogun, and Fandral. Heimdall needn't say anything, because their absence had spoken volumes. Loki hadn't exiled them, so there was only one explanation. Even if Hela hadn't killed them, they would have burned to a crisp during Ragnarok.

Thor sat on his bed, eyes closed, shoulders hunched. The door was locked. He should have done more. He should have held Hela back, or at least gone with her to Asgard. He could have protected them. He could have saved them. He should have saved them. But now they were dead.

He dropped his head into his hands, a tired sigh escaping him. For several days he had been all smiles and charisma and energy, making sure everyone onboard the Statesman was healthy and decently happy. But he needed a break. He needed a rest. So he hadn't left his room that morning, and when his sibling had come knocking on the door, Thor had ushered them away with a simple “I can't today.” Loki seemed to understand, leaving without a word. That was in the morning. It was evening now, and Thor had not eaten. He had cried. He had slept. And now there was nothing. Nothing but emptiness. His friends. His closest friends. His soldiers. His people. He had failed them as a king. He was supposed to protect them, and he failed. Yes, he had done all he could, but it wasn't enough.

Pain. That's all there was. It filled him with an unbelievable rage; at himself, at Hela, at Odin, at his friends. Electricity swirled around him, and bolts shot out every few seconds, the sheets beneath him smoldering and black with his emotions. It danced along his skin, along his hairs. Fury burned in his veins, fueling the electric storm he was creating. He heard a crackle, but did not turn to see the pillow behind him catch on fire, did not see the metal door knobs in the room glow white with heat. A battle cry left him, a scream so thunderous that his window shook, that Loki down the hall looked up from the book they had been reading, that Brunnhilde looked up from her whiskey at the bar, that Banner looked up from his notes several halls away.

And then Thor collapsed. The carpet turned black as he fell to his knees, the heat sizzling it and reducing it to a crisp. Hot tears fell from his eyes, stained his cheeks, the remaining carpet. It was almost painful, as there was hardly any water in him left to cry, he was so dehydrated. But somehow the tears kept coming, kept spilling, kept wracking sobs out of him. Eventually he had curled into a ball on the floor, heaving with dry sobs. He didn't know how long he lay there, or how long it took him to fall asleep, but when he woke up the next morning, the door was unlocked, and there was a blanket over Thor. There was no sign of his emotions yesterday except for the blackened carpet beneath him. The pillows had been replaced, and there was even one propped underneath his head. At breakfast, no one said anything, but there was a knowing, understanding gleam in Loki's eye.


End file.
